The Whiteboard

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1. The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column, with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be presented by his dress or appearance.

The long, draughty subterranean passage was chilly and dusty, and my candle flared and made the shadows cower and quiver. The echoes rang up and down the spiral staircase, and a shadow came sweeping up after me, and one fled before me into the darkness overhead. I came to the landing and stopped there for a moment, listening to a rustling that I fancied I heard; then, satisfied of the absolute silence, I pushed open the baize-covered door and stood in the corridor.

'You have no right to take our books,' he continued. 'You have no money and your father left you none. You ought to beg in the streets, not live here in comfort with a gentleman's family. Anyway, all these books are mine, and so is the whole house, or will be in a few years' time. I'll teach you not to borrow my books again.' He lifted the heavy book and threw it hard at me.

Are you ready to care for the bully? I know, it is controversial to suggest that the bully needs care too. It is not a viewpoint that would be popular with the parents of children who are victim to their behaviour. However, the truth of the matter is that to solve the problems of the bully means there will be no victims to support.

There was a time when I was really small that I used to have really bad dreams. These were not just nightmares, these were night terrors. I would, according to my sister, wake up screaming and sweating, as if I was being eaten by a monster, right there on the bed. So, my sister, who was a little older than me, read me The BFG before I went to sleep each night. She used to tell me that this book was written by a doctor, who had met the BFG and employed him to help with people with such very bad dreams.

Stonehenge, in Wiltshire, close to A303, Salisbury and Amesbury, is one of the most mystical and mysterious sites in the UK. It is essentially a series of rocks designed in a circle, but this does nothing to describe what you will see and feel when you visit the site. Or, should I say, when you visit close to the site.